


Designation: Starscream

by Anonymous



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Friendship, M/M, Memory Loss, Romance, Unethical Experimentation, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 02:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20788967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After Starscream is severely injured in battle, the Autobots take him in and make him one of their own. There, Starscream finds happiness, friendship, love, and a true sense of belonging. But, is he just being used as a weapon?





	Designation: Starscream

The bot in front of Starscream is saying something, but he only sees their lipplates move. His audials are ringing, ringing, ringing. A high-pitched, painful sound that seems to pierce the thick metal of his helm and bury itself into his processor, tearing at his very thoughts and making it impossible to concentrate. Everything around him is too bright, too vivid. Every sensor in his system is heightened to an agonizing degree. As he feels himself unwinding, he shutters his optics and tries to clutch at his pained helm, but his servos won’t cooperate. Now there’s screaming coming from somewhere.

It takes a klik for him to realize that the source is his own vocalizer.

The bot says a word he can’t make out. Repeats it, frantic now. But, darkness creeps around the edges of Starscream's vision and before he knows it, he falls into a cold oblivion.

***

This time when he regains consciousness, the pain isn’t as strong, instead dying down to a dull throbbing beneath his helm. Images and data are flashing before his optics, filing themselves away at incomprehensible speeds. It stops abruptly after a confusing moment, leaving him dizzy.

The bot in front of him is speaking. There are two others nearby, but they keep their distance.

“Hello, Starscream. Not sure if you remember, but I’m Wheeljack,” he says.

Starscream sits up straighter in his chair, startling when he notices all the wires and tubes around him. Or rather _in _him, connecting him to whirring machines that monitor his spark rhythm, processor waves, temperature, venting, energon levels, and more.

Wheeljack speaks in a friendly tone. Tells him there’s nothing to worry about. They just patched him up after a nasty fight with some bots called the Decepticons and now he’s safe in the Ark. His home.

Starscream feels some of the tension drain from him. He leans back, lets out a long exvent.

“Time to take these wires out and move you to a nice, comfy berth,” Wheeljack says. “What do you say to that? Will you be feeling alright to move?”

“I don’t remember you.” Starscream’s vocalizer is full of static. He resets it.

“Yes.” Wheeljack’s voice is less cheery now. “They hit you hard, I’m afraid.”

Starscream frowns. This is _not _right. It can’t be. Even with all the disorienting madness he’s been shaking off, he can’t have just forgotten someone entirely. But, now that he thinks about it, he can’t recall what he was doing before waking up the first time. Or…

Terror races through him. He shakes his helm in disbelief as his entire reality comes crashing down. He can’t remember where he was. Can’t remember how he was injured at all. He feels like he’s disembodied, floating through an abyss. He tries to stand up, but his limbs are too weak, his processor sluggish.

“Wh-what..” he says, nearing panic mode.

Wheeljack’s optics dart to a black and white robot with a red chevron on his helm. The bot quickly steps forward, scrutinizing Starscream with bright, blue optics that stare into his very core.

“I’m Prowl,” he says. “Do you remember anything before the accident yesterday?”

Try as he might, Starscream fails to pull up any memory files from that time. Or _any _time, really. They’re all strangely fragmented or missing entirely. The only things he remembers are bits and pieces of Cybertron. The science lab. Skyfire. But, what did he do _after _that?

Starscream is distressed, broken. Had this accident permanently damaged his processor?

“No,” he says. “I-I don’t—what’s wrong with me?” His voice rises in pitch, his venting uneven.

Prowl relaxes slightly when Starscream gives him that answer, getting to work on unhooking the wires. Starscream flinches when a particularly deep-set one is extracted from his helm.

The other bot in the room, a red and white mech with a kind face, takes Prowl’s place at Starscream’s side when he’s finished, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get you to a berth so you can rest. You suffered a serious helm injury,” he says. “We managed to repair most of the damage, but your memory files are fried.” 

“Who are you?” Starscream asks as the mech helps him to his pedes and wraps a supportive servo around his waist.

“Ratchet,” the bot says. His voice is so warm and friendly. “I’m the chief medical officer of the Ark.”

“The Ark?” Starscream is gently guided out of the room and down a hallway. They don’t make it very far before he feels himself growing tired, barely able to keep his optics unshuttered.

Ratchet is explaining something, but Starscream can’t process it.

When Ratchet finally maneuvers him into a small room and arranges him on a berth, Starscream immediately slips into a deep recharge.

***

Cycles later, Starscream’s recovery process is underway. Thankfully, his chronic processor aches have vanished and he feels more comfortable than before, but panic and confusion threaten to overwhelm him as his caretakers fill in the details that his damaged memory files are missing. Easing back into his life as an Autobot is an uphill battle, but his comrades are there to help him every step of the way.

It’s a lot to handle. Too much. Especially the information about the war. And what a surreal thing the situation is. He was a scientist, not a fighter, but he’s told that everyone had to adapt to the monumental changes once the war was in full swing. Things would never be the same.

It isn't long before Starscream discovers that the group is in disarray. Optimus Prime, their leader…_his _leader…has been missing for several cycles, leaving Jazz, Prowl, and Ironhide to handle things, but nothing is going smoothly. The Decepticons used the absence of their greatest warrior as an opportunity to increase attacks on energy factories and oil refineries around the planet.

Prowl insisted that Megatron and his goons took Optimus prisoner during the same battle where Starscream was injured. They’d engaged Megatron and his army in a mine, but it collapsed after Megatron fired off an experimental weapon. The Autobots dug for joors, but never recovered Optimus. The Decepticons were nowhere in sight, either, blasting through the wreckage and retreating before the Autobots could do anything.

Starscream can’t help but feel a bit guilty. The inspiring leader who everyone loved and respected was lost, possibly dead and gone forever, but an ordinary bot like him was spared. The thought inspired him to try as hard as he could to prove himself. Prove that he wasn’t worthless, that he could bounce back from his injuries, rejoin the fight, and help the team win some ground against their enemies.

During all this madness, the one bright spot was reconnecting with his dear friend Skyfire. He’d been anticipating his return to base ever since Ratchet told him Skyfire was also an Autobot, currently on a wide search for Optimus Prime alongside Cliffjumper, Brawn, and Mirage.

The mood is gloomy when Starscream walks into the control room and discovers Skyfire somberly standing around with a large group of bots. Starscream can call most of them by name, but he’s still having trouble with a few.

“Even snuck into the Decepticreep base and looked everywhere,” Cliffjumper is saying. “No luck.”

“I don’t get it,” Bumblebee says in exasperation. “He’s got to be in the mine still. He can’t have just disappeared!”

“I wish we could’ve found him,” Brawn says, sighing. “We tried everything.”

“You guys did your best,” Jazz says. “Hate to say it, but it looks like we’re on our own now.” He fades off, staring down at his pedes.

Despite the downbeat conversation, Starscream can’t stop his spark from leaping in happiness at the sight of his friend. He stumbles over to Skyfire, arms outstretched. Everyone goes silent, watching the scene warily.

“Skyfire!” He’s nearly in tears at the sight of someone so familiar, a memory of a life long ago that he’s managed to retain in his broken processor.

Skyfire stares at him for a moment, hesitant. His optics dart over to Prowl and Ironhide for a klik before looking down at Starscream again. Starscream swears he sees a trace of revulsion on Skyfire’s face for some odd reason, but it vanishes in a flash, replaced by a broad smile that doesn’t quite reach his optics. “I’m so glad you’re alright! I heard about your injuries.”

Starscream hugs him tight, burying his face in his cockpit. Washer fluid trickles down his cheeks as a load of pent-up emotions suddenly breaks free. Joy at seeing someone he truly remembers, but also sorrow over the loss of his memories. “Skyfire…” he sobs.

Skyfire wraps his strong arms around him, holding him close. “Shh, it’s okay,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “I’m—I’m here.”

***

Starscream is airborne for less than ten kliks before he freezes up again and plummets to the ground, crashing through the trees. He lies there, face down in the dirt, groaning in pain. He slowly sits up and hugs his legs to his chest, trembling. Why is everything going so _wrong? _First, he can’t remember any of his Autobot friends. Now he can’t even fly.

Ratchet said it would take time, but he doesn’t have that luxury. The war rages on, with or without him.

Starscream shakily climbs to his pedes and drags himself back to the clearing in front of the Ark, ready for a ninth try. Or is he on his tenth? Everything aches, but he’s not giving up yet.

“Starscream, maybe we should call it a day,” Skyfire suggests.

The sun is already dipping below the horizon, bathing the volcano and forest in its dying rays.

Starscream feels even worse when he hears the pity in his voice. “No, I can’t,” he protests. “Prowl says the Decepticons have an advantage because of their jets. I need to get back to normal so I can help our team! You need backup out there.”

“Your processor is still healing,” Skyfire says patiently. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Starcream can’t even find the strength to take flight again. He falls to his knees in the dirt, worn out and utterly defeated. Everything hurts so much, chassis and spark.

“Who ever dreamed we’d be warriors?” Starscream mutters. “Seems like just yesterday we were in a research lab together.” 

Skyfire joins him on the ground. “Do you remember the time we got stranded in that jungle? The one with the plants that shot acid at us? I thought we’d never get off that planet, but you were resourceful as ever.”

Starscream’s spark clenches. “I—don’t remember.”

The amused smile is wiped from Skyfire’s face. He averts his gaze, staring at the sunset instead. They sit in silence for a while, listening to the breeze blow through the tall trees.

When Skyfire speaks again, his voice is gentle, careful. “We can make new memories.”

“But, I’m not even the same bot,” Starscream said. “I’m a mess. I’m never going to be fully repaired, am I?”

Skyfire gazes at him with nothing but sympathy on his face. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it, struggling to find an answer.

“I’m so sorry,” he eventually whispers. “You didn’t deserve any of this, Starscream.”

***

Later, as Starscream shuffles down the hall on the way to get cleaned up, he hears voices coming from a nearby room, his interest piqued by how heated they sound. He slowly edges toward the door and presses the side of his helm against it, feeling slightly ashamed for eavesdropping, but his curiosity was too strong to resist.

"This isn’t right!" Ratchet's voice says. Starscream has never heard the medic become agitated before. "I'm a doctor. I'm supposed to _heal._ What would Prime say?"

"Prime would want us to win this war, protect the humans." Prowl's voice is calm, but firm. "This could change everything, don't you see?”

"But, he never had a choice!" Ratchet cries. "It goes against everything we stand for. And I don’t care how successful you think that group meeting was before the reboot, this whole experiment is still making things uncomfortable for everyone."

"We're giving him a better life," Prowl retorts. "What does he have with the others? Megatron’s beatdowns? Constant disharmony and violence? They weren't coming back for him anyway. I wasn’t going to leave him to suffer and neither would Prime if he was in my position."

Before Starscream hears any more of the fascinating exchange, he's startled by pedesteps and laughter coming from down the hall. His spark skips a beat as he quickly pulls away and makes a run for it before anyone sees him. 

***

When he slips into the washracks, he's greeted by harsh light and stark white tile. It sets off a minor processor ache, but he powers through the discomfort as he cleans himself up, watching impassively as mud swirls down the drain. When he’s finished, he stands in front of a large mirror, taking in the pure exhaustion in his blue optics. The cuts and dents littering his chassis. But, most of all, the Autobot symbols emblazoned on his wings. Symbols of hope. Symbols that remind him that he needs to keep pushing on, no matter how difficult it may seem. His companions need his help now more than ever.

Starscream can’t let them down. No matter how challenging the journey, he needs to recover and take to the skies again alongside Skyfire. The fate of Earth and Cybertron depends on it.

At the same time, the conversation between Prowl and Ratchet still spins around in his processor, refusing to leave him alone. 


End file.
